I Hired an Undertaker After Getting Cancer

When I cut my wrists, I sent the undertaker I hired my exact location.

[It’s 304, Unit 1, Garden Road. Don’t get it wrong now.

[Be sure to come two hours later.]

Half a month ago, I learned that I had cancer, so I went online to hire an undertaker and asked him to provide the full service. I also asked him to come whenever I asked him to.

The older generation always said that you had to be properly buried, or you would not be able to rest in peace, and I believed it.

So, I worked hard to gather money in order to secure myself a proper burial, but to my surprise, after I sent the message, I received a call from my undertaker.

The deep voice of a man came through the phone. “Sorry, something came up in the afternoon, so I won’t be able to go. I can give you your money back. Does that sound good?”

When I heard this, my phone nearly slipped out of my grasp.

I bit my lip and said, “You promised that you’d come when I asked you to!”

If I had not seen all the good reviews the people left for him online, I would not have believed in him!

Still, he was telling me that he could not come?

How was I supposed to hire someone else to give me a proper burial within such a short period of time?!

Perhaps it was because I was quite choked up when I was speaking, but the undertaker hesitated for a moment. “Why don’t we settle this with a form of compensation you can accept? How much money do you want?”

This was not a question about money.

I was already half-dead, and he blew me off!

My hands were trembling, and the blood on my wrists had already soaked through the hem of my dress. What my dress could not absorb splattered on the floor.

I could no longer care about how dizzy I was and could only force myself to speak. “But I’m going to die today. Why don’t I pay you a little more? Please come here. It won’t take you much time.”

Since he had already said this, I could not be greedy anymore. I would just ask him to collect my body.

“I only have one simple request. After I die, please send me to the crematorium, okay? I’ve just cut my wrists, so I won’t have time to hire another undertaker.”

I cast aside my pride and begged the undertaker to fulfill my request.

My heart was racing. I was really worried that he would say no.

After a moment of silence, the undertaker seemed to have finally caught the crux of the situation. He instinctively asked, “You’re the one dying?”

I was stunned and answered him honestly. “Who else?”